


Interim

by cal1brations



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Denial of Feelings, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 13:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19020511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cal1brations/pseuds/cal1brations
Summary: Obi-Wan sighs, defeated. "It's been a long day, Anakin. I don't have the energy for decent banter with you right now."Anakin fixes him with a gaze that, were looks able, would light Obi-Wan on fire with the amount of lust aimed in his direction. "Whatdoyou have the energy for, Master?"





	Interim

It's not that they've never taken showers together before-- because all's a commodity in times of war, including personal space, like the privacy of a shower-- but some are far more sexually charged than others, to say the very _least_ on the matter.

Obi-Wan is scrubbing dirt and grime off himself with all the energy he has left from hauling ass across the battlefield numerous times today. His legs are sore and he can't stop thinking about how nice his awful little cot is going to feel when he gets to collapse into it. As soon as he's clean, he all but mouths to himself, scrubbing at his face to make sure the layer of dust comes out of his beard.

Anakin is at the showerhead beside him; they're communal showers, a way to save space on board a ship specifically meant to be shuffling people around. It's so late in the evening, however, that they are the only two cleaning up at this point. It also helps that Anakin, too on-edge from the day of fighting to spend even a fraction of a second thinking any other problem they need to solve, locked the main door into the room. They are completely alone, and despite the good nature in Obi-Wan that is tempted to tell Anakin to knock it off and unlock the door, there is also a bliss in a bit of private downtime that he realizes he can't argue against.

There is also the fact that Anakin is very naked beside him, and there are few things on-par in terms of raw appeal than a naked Anakin.

(It isn't wrong to acknowledge such a truth, right? Surely not.)

Luckily, Obi-Wan is not the only one stealing glimpses when he can, however Obi-Wan does it far more subtly than Anakin does. After all, Anakin is not the only naked one here, and it would be a lie if he were to claim that Obi-Wan is not an attractive man; he clearly is. Anakin likes how he slicks his wet hair back from his face before lifting his head into the stream of water and running his hands down his face, pulling back from the motion with his lips in a silent "o".

He also likes the way water runs down the length of Obi-Wan's body, likes the moles spotted here and there on Obi-Wan's arm and thigh and ankle. He likes the trail of hair that starts at his stomach and makes a very shapely path down to--

"You're full of surprises, aren't you."

Anakin is polite enough to drag his gaze up to Obi-Wan's face, watching him scrub out his hair. "Sorry?"

Obi-Wan finishes scrubbing suds out of his hair before he lifts his head to look at Anakin. He struggles to stifle a certain kind of smile. "By the way you ignored everyone when we got back to the ship, I didn't think you'd be entertaining ideas like that."

Oh. Anakin thinks pretty loudly, it seems.

Anakin tries to play it cool, taking a moment to push his face into the shower stream before he shakes the water out of his eyes. "I'm sick of everyone _else_ right now. Not you," he answers, blunt.

"I'm flattered."

"You don't sound like it."

Obi-Wan sighs, defeated. "It's been a long day, Anakin. I don't have the energy for decent banter with you right now."

Anakin fixes him with a gaze that, were looks able, would light Obi-Wan on fire with the amount of lust aimed in his direction. "What _do_ you have the energy for, Master?" He asks in a voice that is very quiet, hardly audible over the sound of the running water, but Obi-Wan can't stop the shiver that slides down his spine at the rumble of Anakin's voice.

He gives Anakin a look, a quiet once-over, mocking deep thought about his next words. He doesn't get to say anything in turn, however, because Anakin's got him cornered back against the cold wall, their noses close enough to bump but their lips just a hair’s breadth away from meeting. He holds a hand not against the wall to pin Obi-Wan in, but rather holds his hand (the one that is still flesh) at Obi-Wan's hip, clearly demonstrating his intent.

Perhaps the pause is to give Obi-Wan a chance to retort, or to back out, but the only thing Obi-Wan can do with real sincerity is cup Anakin's face between wet hands and pull him in the rest of the way for a kiss. He kisses Anakin hard, licking his tongue between his lips and against the backs of his teeth, tasting all he can while he shuts his eyes tight and falls into the feeling of Anakin against him, solid and real.

The Force sings with Anakin's want, loud enough that Anakin is aware he's being Too Much about it, but he can't help it. Obi-Wan kisses him all slow but hard, deep enough that Anakin isn't going to forget about this for a while yet, and Anakin meets him with eager enthusiasm despite his exhaustion.

Obi-Wan's hands sit at Anakin's chest, flat against his collarbones. The kiss waxes and wanes, and Obi-Wan knows why; Anakin does too, since it's so obvious between the both of them.

_How far are we going to go?_

The question is unsaid, but there's enough in the Force that the words don't actually need to come out of someone's mouth to become reality. Obi-Wan pauses in the kiss, turning his head a fraction to stop Anakin's lips from chasing after his, and takes a moment to fix Anakin with a look. Something to convey what he means without saying it, but he can tell that the only thing Anakin is thinking is disinterest on Obi-Wan's behalf.

So Obi-Wan kisses him again, but this time, he reaches down to give Anakin's already-hard cock a squeeze before he tries to pull Anakin's hips towards his own. Anakin moans at the touch, a hand jumping out to hold himself up against the wall behind Obi-Wan as he leans into him, lets his hips push against Obi-Wan's hand and Obi-Wan himself. He lets out a trembling breath close to Obi-Wan's ear, turning his head in towards him to whisper, "I want you so badly."

Obi-Wan nods, since it's all that seems appropriate (though there are many different things Obi-Wan would like to say to that statement). He uses his free hand to hold Anakin by the small of his back, encouraging him to keep close, and scrapes his beard against the soft skin of Anakin's shoulder while he presses a firm kiss there.

"This position isn't good here," Obi-Wan murmurs. "Let me turn around. Scoot."

Anakin peels himself back, an overwhelming amount of aroused curiosity coming from his side of the Force. He watches Obi-Wan turn himself around, particularly takes note of how he pushes his chest up to the wall, but cants his hips back with his feet spread too far apart to be casual.

" _Oh_ ," Anakin whispers, but it comes out as more of a breathless moan. He wasn't expecting that-- hell, he wasn't expecting Obi-Wan to want to fool around much at all, but he sure isn't going to turn down an opportunity.

He curls himself around Obi-Wan's back before Obi-Wan can change his mind about the silent offer. It's hard to kiss mouth-to-mouth like this, but Anakin doesn't have a problem in sucking bruising marks against Obi-Wan's neck as he slots himself behind him, grinding his cock against the cleft of Obi-Wan's ass.

Obi-Wan makes a soft moan at that; it's the mere thought of the thing that's turning him on. His cock hangs between his legs, hardening up the more Anakin humps against him. It's nice, but it's not what Obi-Wan had gone for when he'd offered himself up like this, just short of serving himself on a platter.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan tries to bite out, but it comes out more like a needy grunt. He turns to throw Anakin a glance over his shoulder, tendrils of hair dropping into his face. All it takes is a look to convey what he wants.

Anakin turns his head back towards the bench on the other side of the half-wall that separates the tiled shower floor from the rest of the room. There's a pair of towels slung over the half-wall, and a few bottles lined up there, but everything else is over on the bench, including their clothes.

"Do you have something...?"

"Why would I have _anything_ of the sort with me _in the shower_ , Anakin?"

Anakin's got a smug grin on his face at that answer, which makes Obi-Wan smile in turn (mostly with exasperation; damn this boy). Obi-Wan feels him turn, though he doesn't quite pull away from Obi-Wan in the process, and the Force gives a tug as Anakin calls one of the bottles from the half-wall to his hand.

"Just wondering if I had to get creative, _Master_ ," Anakin answers, his voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness. He leans in to nose at the back of Obi-Wan's neck, and Obi-Wan shivers as Anakin's lips ghost delicately over wet, sensitive skin.

"May I?"

Obi-Wan huffs out a weak laugh, nodding. "Yes, you perfectly dreadful thing." He pushes his hips back for good measure, making sure his feet won't slip on the slick tiles below them.

Anakin gives a little rumble of a laugh himself, but Obi-Wan feels the arousal radiating from him despite it. He feels Anakin's hungry gaze sliding down the expanse of his back as he dribbles the bottle's contents into his hand; he only uses the left one for situations like this, naturally, and Obi-Wan is a bit grateful for that much.

Anakin used to be horrible at this part, as much as Obi-Wan dislikes admitting it. He was too rough, too eager. He treated foreplay like a chore, too desperate to move on to the main event, and would get himself frustrated over Obi-Wan's chiding-- _too rough, Anakin_ and _wait, not yet_ and _give me a moment_. In the same vein, Obi-Wan could understand the frustration, the lack of tenderness that should be absent from these things, given their Jedi status.

But that was nearly a year ago, now, and Anakin has gotten much, much better at these sorts of things. He already has Obi-Wan arching back into his hand as he presses one finger, then two, inside him. The position gives Anakin a great advantage in aiming his touch just so, dragging his fingers over that particular spot that makes Obi-Wan stutter out a gasp of delight. Once he's found it, he is rather merciless with his teasing; he drags his fingers over it, but also stops pushing his fingers in so deep when Obi-Wan seems to be enjoying it too much. It is a blissful torture for Obi-Wan, whose cock leaks with need; he hasn't reached down to touch himself yet, too enthralled in Anakin's touch.

Sometimes Anakin is chatty when they're like this, but there's just as many times where he is quieter. Obi-Wan supposes it's the length of the day that's getting to him, otherwise Anakin would be more than happy to pant filthy phrases against the shell of his ear as he takes his sweet time in fingering him. For now, Anakin keeps his nose pressed into the curve of Obi-Wan's neck, his breaths shaky against Obi-Wan's damp skin as he slides slick fingers in and out of him, encouraging Obi-Wan to be pliant for him.

When he thinks he can take no more without just reaching down and finishing himself to the feeling of Anakin's fingers filling him, Obi-Wan gives a jerky nod of his head. He pushes himself up from the wall a bit to glance over his shoulder, his breaths falling heavy from his mouth. He looks a mess and he knows it, and he knows Anakin knows it, but somehow it isn't his main concern right now. Not as he looks to Anakin, who is also a fine-looking mess, with his full lips slightly parted as he looks to Obi-Wan with genuine interest and something else--

Obi-Wan struggles to say something. He opens his mouth, but no words come. Everything he thinks about saying seems too odd. So he nods again, more forcefully, and hopes Anakin gets the message. _On with it,_ he thinks, hoping his thoughts are loud enough for Anakin to hear.

Anakin nods in turn. Something like nervousness swells in his chest, but it's an excited nervous; it always feels like this with Obi-Wan. It's delicious. It's addicting.

He pushes up against Obi-Wan's back, slowly drawing back his fingers. His mechanical had walks its fingers to sit at Obi-Wan's hip, holding him there in a way that is meant to be grounding for the both of them. Anakin's breath tickles Obi-Wan's ear as he lines his cock up with Obi-Wan's hole, letting the blunt head push in just slightly, just enough to taunt.

"Don't," Obi-Wan chokes, dropping his head down. His forearms hold him up against the tiled wall, and Anakin feels Obi-Wan's hands clenching all the way up in the muscles of his shoulders. "Anakin."

"Yeah," Anakin whispers, because he gets it. He doesn't take the time to tease him tonight, knowing that they're both too worked up and too tired to make this into the kind of game that is can be sometimes. Obi-Wan needs, and Anakin does too.

Anakin dutifully slides his way home without further preamble.

It makes them both gasp, but Anakin's gasp tails into a low, rumbling moan as he seats himself balls-deep inside Obi-Wan. It's a slow movement of his hips, but once they're flush together, Anakin stays like that for a long moment, both to steady himself and to feel out Obi-Wan.

The Force always seems so loud when they're like this, like there's too much going on for just words; there are even things that the Force can't seem to make sense of, between the two of them. It sings in Anakin's blood, reverberates through Obi-Wan, and continues to swell and ebb and flow between them.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says in a quiet voice, towards the floor. Anakin feels his need, his desire, and his own arousal skyrockets from it, from knowing Obi-Wan _needs_. He nods briefly, but his hips slide back before he's pushing himself back inside and-- oh, _yes_ , this is what they both needed.

He keeps the pace slow for only a few thrusts, before Obi-Wan is pushing back against him and bites out something that sounds like, "More," and then it all just _happens_. Anakin braces his mech hand against the wall, above Obi-Wan's, and his free hand comes to hold Obi-Wan's hip firmly as he slams into him. Obi-Wan stutters out a moan, something quiet and breathier than he'd perhaps like to admit, but he spreads his legs a little further to steady himself as Anakin's pace grows quicker and harder.

Soft groans fall out of Anakin's mouth as he fucks into Obi-Wan. There aren't words for the pleasure it brings, both the sex and the way the Force swirls around them, swells up inside him. It's like jumping out of fast-moving speeders, it's like narrowly escaping blaster fire, it's so _good_. He can't think about anything other than wanting more, more, more-- and Obi-Wan is just giving it to him. Fuck.

He would reach around to jerk Obi-Wan off, but there are some things that seem to be unspoken rules; a reach-around while getting pounded tends to be one of them. Obi-Wan is generally pretty stingy about when Anakin gets to touch his cock in general-- maybe due to some lingering guilt from their "situation"-- but it's not as big a hang up anymore as it used to be. Anakin doesn't even bother with it tonight, but he _does_ lick a stripe up Obi-Wan's spine before mumbling against the shell of his ear, "Are you close?"

Obi-Wan nods stiffly. His lips are streched around silent moans he doesn't dare let out willingly, not in a room with this much reverberation.

"Me too," Anakin grunts, punctuating the statement with a hard thrust that makes them both gasp. Obi-Wan throws his head back, and the stretch of his neck makes his moan come out much more throatily than expected; Anakin's dick twitches with need.

Anakin uses the hand at Obi-Wan's hip to grab his wrist from the wall, guiding Obi-Wan's hand down to his cock. He curls Obi-Wan's fingers around himself, his own hand covering Obi-Wan's, and together they stroke him in-time with Anakin's thrusts. Obi-Wan's pleasure screams out in the Force, sending Anakin into more of a frenzy than anything else. His orgasm is building, they're both getting close now, and he gives chase to the edge.

Obi-Wan is panting, quiet noises that go _ah, ah, ah_ , keeping time with everything that Anakin is doing to him. He's scrambling to grapple onto the slick wall, trying to anchor himself despite how hard and fast his orgasm is building. Anakin forces their hands to move quickly over his cock, and he's stuck between thrusting into their joined hands, or pushing back onto Anakin's dick. It's bliss, it's lovely, it's maddening in all the best ways.

Anakin is swearing in his ear when he finishes, whispering heated swears against the shell of his ear and the corner of his jaw as he fucks into him once, twice, then settles for pressing up against him and rutting out his orgasm with shallow rocks of his hips. It's fucking hot to say the least, and Obi-Wan casts a quick glance upwards, a moment of hopeless acceptance, and then his eyes are slamming shut as he spills over both of their hands, trembling with the effort of subduing his pleasured shout.

Anakin keeps him crowded up against the wall for a while, clearly still recovering. Obi-Wan sagely takes the time to gather himself as well, gain his wits again after having them fucked out of him in... a communal shower area. Fucking hell.

"The places you take me, my boy," Obi-Wan sighs, still a bit breathless. He presses his cheek against the cool tile wall in front of him.

Anakin snorts against his shoulder. "What, is fucking in the shower a new one?"

"The fact you think I'm so inexperienced is stunning. And a bit insulting."

"I think that's a _yes_ ," Anakin answers smugly, too tired to truly argue the point, to Obi-Wan's immense pleasure. He is not fond of kissing and telling, especially when it comes to Anakin, of all people. He is more than happy to let Anakin assume his innocence as it suits him-- for now.

Obi-Wan still rolls his eyes, nudging at Anakin with an elbow. "Let up. I didn't come in here for you to get me all disgusting again. I'm going to bed fresh and showered, even if it takes me all night to accomplish it."

Anakin slowly steps back, cocking a brow at Obi-Wan as the man turns around. "If I weren't mistake, it sounds like you're implying another round, Master."

Obi-Wan deadpans at Anakin, a look that makes Anakin laugh as he steps back under the spray of the shower.

"Fine! I hear you," Anakin relents, scrubbing out his hair again with rough, quick movements. "Try not to get so distracted this time, Obi-Wan."

"As I recall, _you_ were the one who couldn't keep his lewd thoughts to himself, Anakin--"

"Semantics," Anakin answers quickly, before aiming his face up directly into the showerhead and rendering himself mute in the conversation, lest he wish to waterboard himself.

The shower is mundane from there, which is definitely a good thing, considering how exhausted Obi-Wan feels by the time he's satisfied with his cleanliness. He staggers to his towel to dry himself off, his arms feeling tired and heavy as he dries himself down with it.

Anakin doesn't seem to be doing much better, wrapping a towel around his waist before using another to wring out his hair and pat his face dry. There are bags under his eyes and an age on his face that Obi-Wan did not expect to see so soon. It's a bit sad, having seen the bright young boy Anakin once was now look like a war-torn man.

Anakin moves to sit on the bench, making to dry his face, but then he keeps his face in the towel. He gives a long sigh, a tired sigh, and Obi-Wan smiles sympathetically as he reaches to give his shoulder an affectionate pat.

"You'll make it through."

Anakin lifts his head slightly to speak. "That doesn't make it easier. None of this is easy. War isn't easy."

Obi-Wan nods, impressed with Anakin's maturity. "Of course not. But you're one of the most capable people I know, Anakin. You'll make it through just fine."

Anakin looks up to him fully when he says that. Obi-Wan feels the surge of pride through Anakin's side of the bond, and hopes that his own pride is not as obvious; he can't have Anakin getting a big head, nor lead him into believing his pride for Anakin is a side-effect of sex with him, as that is simply not the case.

"Thank you, Master," he says, and the sincerity makes Obi-Wan feel far too many things at once. He struggles on what to do next, but watches Anakin lift Obi-Wan's hand from his shoulder, turning it palm-side up in order to place a fairly-smoldering kiss against it.

"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan asks, and all at once, it's like reality slaps them both in the face with a harsh, cold hand. Anakin drops Obi-Wan's hand, and Obi-Wan mourns the loss a small tad, subtly flexing his fingers at his side, where his hand dropped to.

"Sorry," Anakin says, not sounding sorry at all. He moves to stand with the utmost of nonchalance, picking up his undermost tunic from a messy pile that is half on the bench and half on the floor, unlike Obi-Wan's neatly folded pile of clothes and yanks it on over his head.

Everything seems mundane after that. They dress in silence. They leave for their quarters of the ship-- which are shared, of course. Nothing very important is said as they settle into makeshift cots that squeak terribly from the weight they are not used to handling. Their pillows crunch from the starchy linens and the mediocre stuffing. The blankets are rough, and Anakin is shivering under the meager two he's been rationed, so Obi-Wan lends him one of his own, as well as drapes Anakin's outer robe over his blanket-bundled self.

"I hope this all ends soon," Anakin mumbles as Obi-Wan settles back into his cot. "I hate sleeping on ships. They're always freezing."

"We're not all as heat-hardy as you, Anakin. You'll be back to Coruscant soon enough, and you can blast the heater in your quarters as much as you see fit."

"You're not gonna offer to cuddle with me, to increase my chances of survival?" Anakin asks mockingly.

"Absolutely not," Obi-Wan answers immediately. "That would be inappropriate--"

"I'm sorry? Did I miss the memo about shower sex being considered "appropriate"?"

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. He isn't about to get into (another) long discussion about all this, not when his eyes are physically hurting from how tired he is. He settles into his cot a bit, letting his eyes fall shut. "Go to sleep, Anakin."

Despite his eagerness to retort before, Anakin already seems to be nodding off himself, given that he only grunts out a quiet, "Mm. 'Night, Obi-Wan." His side of the Force slows to a lull as he nods off, and somehow, it is comfort enough to drag Obi-Wan into sleep merely moments after.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a simple person: I think very detailed and complex things about Anakin and Obi-Wan. I then write them fucking rather than anything remotely in-depth and sophisticated.
> 
> Also, you might be wondering to yourself, "What did they use for lube?" and the answer is: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯. All I can confidently add is soap/shampoo/conditioner/water is for sure not lube! Lol.


End file.
